Attack on Lindir
by Lily Lindsey-Aubrey
Summary: My Teitho entrance on the theme of Sickness. If you give a minstrel valerian...


_I wrote this snazzy little one-shot for the Teitho competition, but it didn't win... or come in second... or third... nor did it get a special mention... BUT. I still like it, and a friend of mine was sweet enough to tell me she had voted for it, which touched me not a little. She said I should publish it on here. Of course, I did not need to be asked twice! #haha #hatersgonnahate. I have a bad feeling that, if anyone who is at all familiar with my writing style voted on Teitho, they found my story to be quite obviously mine. (If you are not familiar with my writing style, it goes something like this: Lindir Lindir, Lindir, Lindir Lindir Lindir.) Nevertheless, be that as it may, etc. I have decided to publish it despite its terrible loss in the competition; here you are, and feel free to flame or otherwise. And if you DID vote for Teitho, tell me if you could tell it was mine. I want to know how obvious it was. xD _

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**Attack on Lindir **

Legolas stood in the council room of Imladris with a very sour expression on his face. He tried to remove it, knowing that it marred his usually fabulous features, but he soon gave up, for he was quite provoked. Lindir had written another song.

Now, if you know anything about Lindir, then you will know that his songs are by no means always pleasant or clever. In fact, they are usually just the opposite, and this one that he had just written was especially bad. The words, although they rhymed quite well (Lindir prided himself on his rhyming skills), were tasteless and, in some cases, ridiculously cliche, and the tune was uninspiring and dull.

Legolas cringed as Lindir hit a sour high note. He huffed impatiently. This had to be stopped somehow.

"Lindir," he said authoritatively, striding up to where the minstrel sat playing his lyre. "Please stop this infernal racket."

This was not the most tactful way to deal with the situation, as Legolas soon realized. He suddenly found himself running for his life with an angry Lindir wielding a drumstick in hot pursuit. "Spare meeee!" he screeched, but to no avail.

"One does not simply insult my music!" Lindir shouted angrily. Legolas glanced behind to see that he was too close, and gaining fast. He turned back again just in time to hit his nose into Lord Elrond himself.

"What's going on here?" said Elrond, frowning forebodingly.

"Lindir is going to kill me!" Legolas whimpered. Lindir looked guilty and held the drumstick behind his back.

"What did you do to him, Legolas?"

"I didn't- I mean…"

"I told you that if you keep making trouble, I shall have to send you back home," said Elrond. "Now behave!"

Legolas watched him go with a pout on his face. Then he turned to find Lindir glaring at him.

"This isn't over," Lindir hissed threateningly. "I will get revenge on you for insulting my glorious talent!"

"Just try," Legolas hissed back. "_I _shall get revenge for you making me listen to it!"

They stomped off their separate ways, busily thinking of how to give each other the most grief possible.

It so happened that Legolas was not the only person bothered by Lindir's music that morning. Aragorn had been sitting by, trying to write a love poem to Arwen; but that is not the easiest thing to do when dissonant music was tearing at his ears. He tried his best to ignore; he borrowed ear plugs from Elrond; he even tried writing in his room under his covers. But Lindir had a carrying voice when singing, and there seemed no escape.

"If Lindir must ruin my day with his music," Aragorn muttered, "I shall ruin his day with something worse."

And he wasn't the only one either. Glorfindel had ridden up just as Lindir's song was interrupted by the Prince of Mirkwood, and he was not happy at all. He had been telling Lindir for the last three weeks that if he wrote a single new piece of music, that the balrog slayer would rip him apart with his own hands. And now Lindir had gone and done it, despite all of Glorfindel's threats.

"Lindir must learn his lesson," Glorfindel said to himself. "I will not stand for this! He must realize that I am not one to be trifled with!"

Little did Lindir know that these things were going on behind his back. On he went about his day, forgetting about Legolas, confident in the belief that the majority of Imladris liked his music. In reality, the majority of Imladris was just too nice to say anything; Elrond was the only one who liked Lindir's music, and that was simply because the Lord of Imladris had very little musical taste. But, oblivious to these petty details, Lindir was completely suspicionless. So suspicionless that he never dreamed that anyone would prank him. That thought never even crossed his mind.

To be brutally honest, Legolas enjoyed being mean more than almost anything else. Not that he had a bad heart; he simply enjoyed making other people miserable. It was invigorating. He may have been enjoying plotting Lindir's demise a little too much; but who can blame him? No one who has heard Lindir's song, surely.

"My Lord Elrond," he said sweetly, stepping into the healing chambers where Elrond was stitching Elladan's wound, "could I perhaps borrow some valerian?"

"Whatever do you want valerian for?" asked Elrond, turning towards Legolas and frowning. Elladan gave a gasp of pain.

"Ada, my arm!"

"I've been, uh, having some sleepless nights," said Legolas, shifting from foot to foot. "You know; insomnia, and such."

"I would not take much," said Elrond, standing up and going to his medicine cabinet. "It can have unwanted side effects when too much is used."

"Thanks," said Legolas, grabbing the herb from Elrond's hands and dashing off, chuckling to himself.

Elrond stared after him and shook his head.

"Ada, could you finish this?" said Elladan.

"Lord Elrond," said Aragorn, bursting in, "do you have any herbs that help you to sleep?"

"Of course. Why?" asked Elrond.

"Because I need some," said Aragorn. He looked much too cheerful to be in need of such an herb.

"Why?" asked Elrond suspiciously. "Are you in some sort of plot with Legolas?"

Aragorn looked confused. "No, Ada, of course not!"

Elrond was still suspicious, but Aragorn was not the lying type. He sighed.

"Here you are," he said, but Aragorn was gone almost before he finished speaking.

"My arm, Ada!" Elladan groaned.

"Yes, sorry," said Elrond, picking up the needle again.

"Elrooooond!" shouted Glorfindel, poking his head through the window.

"What is it now?" Elrond sighed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes.

"I need some sleeping potion."

"Sleeping potion?" Elrond repeated dubiously.

"Mmhm. Do you happen to have some?"

Now Lord Elrond was very suspicious. "What do _you _need it for?"

"I can't get to sleep," said Glorfindel confidently.

"Uh, it's not nighttime," said Elrond.

Glorfindel blinked. "Oh. I, I meant, I wasn't able to get to sleep last night… so… I think… I think I may have a major case of insomnia! I might even have something worse!"

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "Would you like me to examine you?" he asked solemnly.

"Oh, that won't be necessary," said Glorfindel hurriedly. "I just need something to help me sleep, that's all."

Elrond sighed and sat down again. "Glorfindel, tell me truthfully. Are you in some sort of plot with Legolas and Aragorn?"

Glorfindel was surprised. "No, of course not," he snorted. "I do not consort with such lowly creatures as those two. Not that Aragorn is lowly," he added hastily, seeing the look on Elrond's face. "Just- he's not- my type- too manly or something-"

Elladan laughed at Glorfindel's feeble attempts at remedying the situation. Then he cried out in pain. "Ada! My arm is bleeding really bad!"

Elrond threw his hands in the air. "Fine! I give up. Glorfindel, there is a jar in the cabinet labelled 'Valerian'. Take some of that, following the directions on the label. Elladan, hold still."

Glorfindel leapt through the window, grabbed the jar, and was off as quickly as could be. Elrond shook his head again. Something strange was going on. He hoped those three didn't do any permanent harm.

And they wouldn't have done any permanent harm, had not fate played against Lindir in every possible way. How could any of them guess that each of the others had a grudge against the minstrel? How could any of them know that they each had the same plan? And how could Lindir realize that three different people had each placed valerian in his cup of evening tea?

He thought it tasted a little strange at the first sip. But then, Lindir always sweetened his tea so much that it was rather hard to taste anything but sugar. He thought he was feeling unnaturally dizzy when he stood up afterwards. But then, Lindir wasn't the most clear-headed elf at the best of times.

Stumbling to his bed, he threw himself on it without even bothering to take off his robe, and was soon very, very fast asleep.

Elrond woke up in the middle of the night to loud, blood-curdling screams. He leapt to his feet, threw on his pink robe and fuzzy bunny slippers, and ran for the twins' room. He was used to this, more or less. The twins tended to find the middle of the night the most auspicious time for murdering each other.

How surprised he was to find, when reaching there, that the twins were both fast asleep. It was just like them to wake everyone else up, and then be such deep sleepers as to go unbothered when others made loud noises. Elrond slapped his forehead, and tried to locate where the noise was actually coming from.

Following his ears, he soon found himself at the door of Lindir's room. He paused, confused, then hesitantly knocked.

"Lindir?"

"It's aliiiiive!" came a shriek from inside. "It's aliiive, it's alive!"

"Lindir, are you alright?" Elrond called, more urgently. There was a sudden dead silence. Elrond, growing quite concerned, pushed open the door and walked in.

There was his minstrel, sprawled across the bed in his butterfly pajamas, eyes wide but unseeing. Elrond crossed the room and knelt beside him, gazing at him intently.

"Lindir, can you hear me?" he said. Lindir did not answer. He waved his hand in front of Lindir's eyes, but there was still no response. He went to the door and called down the hallway.

"Aragorn!" he yelled. "Aragorn, wake up! I need your help!"

Needless to say, soon all of Imladris was blearily sitting up in bed and scratching its head. Imladris was not free of nightly noises in general, but this was going a bit beyond the limit.

Aragorn hobbled in minutes later, dragging his stuffed retriever dog (which he still slept with after all these years) and muttering about accursed elves that screamed at night.

"Lindir is ill," said Elrond without waiting for his greeting. "I need your help in figuring out what's wrong with him."

Aragorn blinked sleepily, but knelt next to the prostrate form of the minstrel and looked him over.

"He appears to be unconscious," he said.

Elrond groaned and pushed him impatiently away. "Look," he said. "Glassy eyes. That's a bad sign. Completely rigid body. That can't be good. He seems to-"

Suddenly, Lindir gave a convulsive jerk and rolled over. Elrond and Aragorn jumped back in surprise.

"Butterflies!" Lindir screamed, his hand shaking spasmodically.

"Hallucinations," said Aragorn in a hushed whisper.

"This is serious," said Elrond, his eyes wide. "Quick, send for Lady Galadriel! I cannot treat this sort of disease! I have never seen the like!"

"Is he going to die?" asked a voice. Elrond and Aragorn turned to see Legolas standing in the doorway.

"I don't know," said Aragorn, shaking his head. He looked a little scared. "Legolas, send for Lady Galadriel!"

"Elrond told you to," said Glorfindel, joining Legolas at the door. "Why don't you do as he says for once?"

"Why are you so grumpy?" Aragorn snapped.

"Wouldn't you be if you were woken at this time of night by a screaming minstrel?" Glorfindel snapped back. Their argument was cut short by another shout from Lindir.

"Heeere's Johnny!" he yelled. The elves present cringed in horror.

"Is he going to die?" Legolas asked again, turning very white and clutching his spider plushie tightly.

"Shut up!" said Glorfindel.

"Aaah!" said Aragorn, throwing himself on the floor.

"I send to get Lady Galadriel!" Elrond shouted. "Quickly!"

"I caaaan't," groaned Aragorn, thumping his fists on the floor.

"I think he's busy having an emotional breakdown," said Glorfindel.

"I don't want him to die," said Legolas, sniffling. Tears began to stream down his face.

"Why am I the only one who can keep a cool head at such times?" Glorfindel said, stomping impatiently. He was feeling very guilty, he admitted to himself. He hadn't thought this would happen if he put valerian in Lindir's tea…

"I-I-I d-d-on't want him to diiiieeee!" sobbed Legolas, flopping onto the floor and burying his face in his spider plushie. He was feeling guilty, too, truth be told, and had never expected the effects of valerian to be so serious.

"I only did it in revenge!" Aragorn shrieked, throwing his hands in the air before collapsing on the ground again. He was by no means feeling too innocent himself. That valerian could be so dangerous had never entered his wildest nightmares.

Elrond blinked. Then he frowned. He began to see what had happened.

"What did you three do?" he asked slowly.

"Nothing," Glorfindel said too quickly.

"What did you do?" Elrond shouted. "Tell me now, or Lindir might die!"

"I put valerian in his tea!" the three shouted all at once.

Elrond gasped. Then he choked. Then he began to laugh.

"Don't tell me that's all you did!" he said, collapsing in a chair. "Is that all that happened? How much did you use? It must have been a massive quantity to bring about these effects!"

"I used all of what you gave me," said Legolas uncomfortably, drying his eyes.

"So did I," said Aragorn. "I wanted to make sure it would work."

"I just used the whole bottle," said Glorfindel uncertainly.

"Is it going to kill him?" asked Legolas, his eyes still wide.

Elrond snorted. "No, it won't," he said, leaning his head back. "It will simply give him quite a few nightmares, and he may not- well, _will _not- wake up tomorrow morning. Whatever possessed you to give him valerian, anyway?"

"His music," said Legolas, Aragorn, and Glorfindel together.

Elrond chuckled. "Is it that bad?" he asked. "Ah, well, everyone knows that the Valar have not blessed me with any musical expertise."

"Perhaps you should fire him," said Glorfindel, recovering from his momentary fright and becoming cool and collected once more.

"Perhaps I should," answered Elrond, turning to glare at him, "except I don't think he deserves it after what you three have done to him tonight. Do you?"

"No, Lord Elrond," said Legolas sheepishly.

"No, Ada," said Aragorn uncomfortably.

"I suppose not," Glorfindel pouted.

"Good," said Elrond, standing up. "Now you should all get back to bed. I hope you can all get to sleep; as it so happens, I'm completely out of valerian."


End file.
